


Acceptable Risks

by Anonymous



Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: Backstory, Doomed Relationship, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The conversation between husband and wife before Charity drew from Mr. Le Bail's box
Relationships: Daniel Le Domas/Charity Le Domas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65
Collections: PB Anon Meme - 2019





	Acceptable Risks

If Charity didn't have ten years on the streets and a list of past lovers in the triple digits to compare him with, Daniel Le Domas would have been her knight in shining armour. He is charming and suave, easy-going with a good sense of humour. And he is of the Le Domas family which means, to put it in orphanage terms, he stands to inherit more money than the goddamn pope.

Charity knows what she should do: she should smile and curtsey and hold our her hand for him to kiss the back of. She should have her game face on from morning 'till night because _when_ is a better opportunity going to come up?

The problem is: Daniel is so charming and suave - and effortlessly so - it's at once disarming _and_ alarming. Being with him is like being in the centre of a minefield. Except every explosive is a figment of her imagination and the surroundings can only be described as sumptuous.

Instinctively, Charity wants nothing to do with him. She is a silly foolish girl with a list of lovers longer than most people's acquaintances and she should know the one thing a man desires is that which he cannot have. Because she distances herself from Daniel from the start, so does she immediately catch his eye.

And therein, the chase begins.

Their three year romance is titled 'whirlwind' by the presses but it is more of a slip into muddy lukewarm waters. Daniel is nothing if not stubborn and because he has promised - to himself and to her - that he will have her, so he shall, come hell or high water.

Charity does not remember the exact moment she slipped beneath the surface. Only that she must have nodded her head in affirmation because she blinked again and found a diamond the size of a fist attached to her ring finger.

The days leading up to their wedding are spent waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When he tells her about the darker traditions upheld by the Le Domas clan, the reveal is a relief. She draws a long steadying breath and bites back a laugh, smoothing down the edges of her dress instead.

"That's all?" she asks.

Daniel blinks and then furrows his brows. "What do you mean that's all?"

Charity holds his gaze, saying nothing more.

He swallows and clears his throat, "Darling, I don't believe you understood," he starts, "If the game at midnight is hide and seek - "

"Then your family will take up arms to sacrifice me to Satan, yes, I can follow that much," Charity finishes. She doesn't even bat an eye.

Daniel reaches for his glass and takes a swig, clearly unnerved. "Darling," he starts again, cautiously touching her arm, "You don't understand - "

"Oh?" Charity arches an eyebrow, looking from his outstretched hand back to his well-groomed face.

"It's not a game. It's life and death. I've seen it. I've," he takes another drink, "I've got myself up to my elbows in it."

"Blood?" Charity asks, seeing her husband of five hours in a new light. She has long kept a secret of her firearm license, as well as her degree in pharmacy. For a moment, she wonders if Daniel might well be interested in similar persuasions, but the fact he needs a third drink dissuades her.

"Don't say it like that," he pleads, "I had no choice. We had no choice. We were children then. Stupid fucking children. And we - "

He's interrupted by the creak of stairs. The door to the servants' corridor slides open, revealing Daniel's clinically insane Aunt Helene. Helene Le Domas casts her baleful gaze over the two of them.

"Your presence is expected in fifteen minutes," she says.

"Great, Aunt Helene," Daniel grinds out, waving a hand in fake cheer. "We'll be there, you can count on it."

Helene Le Domas fixes Charity with her stare. Charity coolly returns the gesture. Something like a minute drags by before the old maid spins on her heel and storms out the same way she came in.

"You were saying?" Charity asks, turning back to her husband, who has since turned back to his drink.

"I was saying," Daniel grinds out, "If you draw the wrong card, you will die."

"Then I won't draw the wrong card."

"It's not so easy."

"Nothing ever is, is it?"

"Charity - " Daniel starts, but Charity has had enough. She grabs him by his tie and pulls him close, close enough that she can smell the alcohol on him.

"You swore in front of your family that we would be wedded. You dragged me into a lifestyle I couldn't help but love. Now," she paused, fixing him with a stare to rival his aunt's, "If you would think of taking it away - on my wedding day of all days - you will have another thought coming."

She lets him go and prises the glass from his grasp, downing the rest of the whiskey. Scotch, by the taste of it.

"Bloody hell," Daniel mutters, combing his hair back with his hands. "You're as bad as mum."

Becky Le Domas is a simpering bitch who'd run to any man with her tail between her legs. Charity has hated her from the start but only now does she understand the sort of mayhem the old sow must've been up to. Abruptly, she stands up and strides over to the full-length mirror, admiring her own reflection. As expected, silk, lace, and tulle; platinum and diamonds; they suited her far better than the rags of her birthright.

She smiles at her husband through the mirror. He looks away but cannot keep a shudder from coursing through his veins.

"Come, darling," she coos against his ear, digging her nails into the hollow of his shoulder. "Come and see what a good sport I am."

Daniel is scared in that moment. And he is not scared of losing her, but rather, of _keeping_ her. And Charity has not even told him of her laundry list of lovers, nor of her collection of knives, poisons, and pistols. She tugs him onto his feet and fixes his tie just right before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They are the picture of a newlywed couple gliding down the central staircase. And if her eyes are sharp and his are dull, well, no one in the family dares cast judgment, especially not after her card says chess.


End file.
